


The Paradox of Not Giving In

by rakefire



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bad Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Doctor Ben Solo, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Made For Each Other, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Mysterious(?) Ben Solo, Omega Rey, Scenting, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Thirsty Rey, cw: excessive throat-clearing, patient Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:24:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rakefire/pseuds/rakefire
Summary: Rey is being brought under the care of Doctor Solo for a broken wrist and mild concussion. Being half-conscious most of the time during the treatment, she accidentally scents her doctor. Since then, she can't stop thinking about him.But does he experience the same thing?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/gifts).



> Based on this prompt:  
> Ben Solo is an ER doctor and has frequent encounters with Rey who is always hurting herself. It can slowly blossom into a romance, smut is very much optional but bonus points if it's in a closet or something!
> 
> \+ _mild and slow burn_ A/B/O.
> 
> ———
> 
> The writer is very thankful for the help and support from her beta, [howsolocanyougo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howsolocanyougo/pseuds/howsolocanyougo), who is a literal goddess.
> 
> *the writer knows nothing about medical fields.  
> 

He excites me

Must be like a genesis of rhythm

I get feisty

Whenever I'm with him

If I’m butter, if I’m butter,

If I’m butter, then he’s a hot knife

He makes my heart a cinemascope screen

Showing the dancing bird of paradise

_\- Hot Knife, Fiona Apple_

 

* * *

 

 

The last thing Rey sees before she passes out is a tall lamppost.

That goddamn lamppost.

And then everything turns white like the moon just descends and buttheads her, and Rose is freaking out. And then, darkness.

It isn't until a moment later—she can't tell how long it’s been, really—that everything goes bright again. It’s so bright that her head throbs.

And instead of Rose freaking out, what she hears is multiple people chattering at the same time. There’s also this smell, so potent and sanitized. _Hospital?_ She must be at the hospital.

"The patient is Rey Greyson, Omega female, twenty-two years old, possible right distal radius fracture, and possible MTBI," a woman reads in hurry. "Where's Doctor S— _there_ you are!"

Rey groans.

_Yup. Hospital it is._

She can't open her eyes completely, but she can make out silhouettes. She’s sure her body is in no way functioning as a syringe starts to bite into her skin, sending fluids from her arm all the way to her big dumb head.

She can't really remember what’s happened—well, not after—

"She did _what?"_ she hears a low and deep voice. It’s a nice voice; so rich and dark and _sexual._ Is this the set of Grey’s Anatomy or some other TV show? Only actors can have voices like that. _Nice, nice voice._

"She fought two Alphas, Doc."

_Ah, doctor._ The doctor's got a nice voice.

Rey takes a deep breath and gets a whiff of a really nice smell—probably the _best_ she’s ever scented. Is that the doctor, too? Nice voice. Nice smell. _Mmh…_ must be an Alpha. Must be a TV show set then. Or a porn set. But why would she be at a porn—

"They did this to her?" suddenly Doctor Nice Voice Nice Smell sounds _angry_ —and maybe he is really angry. Is it on her behalf? Oh, no one has ever been mad on her behalf before. _No Alpha has._

He’s approaching her bedside and his smell floods her brain in an instant, calming her better than the freshly administered painkillers. "Has anyone contacted the authorities yet?"

"No one did," the woman—maybe a nurse or a resident, who knows—says again. "Miss Greyson's friend said they didn't want to involve the authorities in the matter."

"And you _let_ that happen?" he barks at her. "You saw an Omega beaten up like this and you did _nothing?"_

"No, Doctor Solo, you don't understand—" she tells him.

_Doctor Solo. Hm._

"—the _Alphas_ didn't want to press charges."

Silence. Rey inhales his smell again. She wishes she could just climb him and scent him right on his glands. _Perfect._

"The Alphas didn't want to press charges?" Doctor Solo repeats. "Why would—"

"She _fought_ them, Doc," the other person—maybe another nurse or resident—giggled. "Meaning, she beat them up... and won. The Alphas were too embarrassed to report that an Omega bested them in a fist fight."

_Oh, so I won_ , Rey smirks triumphantly—at least, she thinks she’s smirking.

She feels drugs snaking through her system, mixing with the intoxicating smell of Doctor Solo. She’s started to like the feel of his name in her mind. And she'd like to grab his coat—assuming he’s wearing a white coat like doctors do—to keep him closer, but too bad her hands are practically useless at the moment.

_Stupid Alphas. Wait—is Rose okay? Where is s—_

And then suddenly, she hears someone _laughing._ Well, it's more like a rumbling chuckle—deep, dark chuckle that makes her glands go all tingly. Who's laughing—wait, is that... _Doctor Solo?_

"She _what?"_ Doctor Solo coughs.

The more he laughs, the more Rey feels her blood boil. Forget his sexy voice and the delicious smell; he’s just a typical Alpha who looks down on Omegas. _Fucking Alphas—_ well, not that she’s got much experience with them.

After his laughter subsides, he clears his throat. He then hunches down and touches her forehead with his gloved hand. And Rey, against her better judgment—or _any_ judgment that might and _should_ exist in this situation, lets out a loud moan. It’s pornographic, to say the least.

Doctor Solo’s hand suddenly freezes. And then, as his touch retreats, she feels empty, devoid of the little warmth that she didn’t know she’s been missing. _No!_ She tries to tell him, _Don’t leave._ She’s not dramatic—okay, maybe a bit—but it does feel warranted.

Rey thrashes her head on the pillow, mumbling incoherently. She wants him to be close again—oh, she wants him— _now._ She’s too high to even care that this behavior is exactly what she hates from her designation—well, at least the social perception of it. _Needy Omegas. Ugh._

"Whoa whoa, don't do that!" He gently places his fingers on her forehead again, preventing her from hitting her head too hard. The heat from his hand is back. "Calm down. It's alright. Nothing will harm you here."

"Better say that to the Alphas as well," someone quips and everyone else snickers. But _not_ Doctor 'Nice Voice Nice Smell' Solo. Rey'd like to believe that he _glares_ at them—you know, like an Alpha would.

She doesn't know what he looks like, but from the way he sounds and smells, he must be a big, cuddly...

"It's okay," he tells her, almost cooing. "You are safe here with me, Rey Greyson."

Her name sounds so good when he says it. She feels herself calming down, especially when he is close again.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Rey?"

She takes a deep breath and does as she’s told. After a brief flash of light, she can finally see him. Doctor Solo towers over her with a very tiny flashlight in his hand. He is staring down at her, the warmest brown eyes she's ever seen. Rey blinks.

_Ah,_ she thinks _, there he is._ Nice voice, nice smell, nice...

Rey smiles at him, high as a kite.

"Fuck," she mutters. "You're really hot."

The last thing Rey sees before she passes out the second time is the shocked face of Doctor Solo. She swears that, in a split second, his eyes have turned dark and piercing, like he would do just about anything to her. She doesn’t trust their depth—although they do ignite brand new excitement she can't explain.

Then, everything goes black again.


	2. Part One, The Diagnosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1) I am so floored by your response. Thank you very much.  
> 2) I'll be posting one or two chapter(s) per day. So, by the time the author reveal happens, I'm already inside a bunker, hiding from the world.  
> 3) Once again, thank you to my amazing beta, [howsolocanyougo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howsolocanyougo/pseuds/howsolocanyougo). Without her, I'd probably cry.

In Rey’s defense—wait which one of her actions is she supposed to be defending, again?

Oh, right. In Rey’s defense, those two Alphas are assholes. They harass people on daily basis, and it happened that on that particular day, they messed with Rose Tico, her very best friend, during her part-time job at Waffle House.

So, like the good (and worse-tempered) friend she is, Rey confronted them at the back of the restaurant and asked them to apologize. Instead of taking her warning seriously, those stinky, steroid-injected Alphas laughed at her. Even worse, they shamelessly made a pass at her, too! All because she’s a fucking Omega.

Long story short, she wasn’t having any of it. So she just… yeah. But in her defense, she wasn’t even the one who started the fight. It was self-defense. It is within her right, even as the second- (or third-?) class citizen that she is.

“So no,” she puts her left hand over the sling to reach her right arm. “I’m not going to apologize.”

“Did you practice this long speech in front of a mirror this morning, or you’re just naturally… this _verbally-inclined,_ Miss Greyson?” Doctor Solo twirls his regular-sized pen in his irregular-sized hand as he casually leans his back on the chair. They are in his _super_ well-ventilated office at their first appointment since being discharged from the hospital.

Rey opens her mouth but then closes it, almost falling for one of his tricks— _again._ For some reason, he always succeeds in making her tell him stuff she doesn’t want him to know. Maybe it’s the Alpha in him and the Omega in her that…

_Ugh._

“My point stands,” she argues finally, after biting her lower lip so painfully. Doctor Solo snorts, and then folds his arms. Rey stares at his well-sculpted muscles strained against his black shirt and her mouth goes dry. She clears her throat and darts her eyes back at the face of a man who always seems so _amused_ with her.

Rey curses inwardly.

After their first meeting in the ER, Rey decided to pretend _nothing_ had ever happened. That she never called him hot in front of his co-workers, or that she wasn't _very_ turned on when he touched her—or honestly, _every time_ he touches her. They’re so handsy, the doctors. Checking blood pressure and examining wounds… what gives them the right?

And it’s a relief that Doctor Solo seems to not mind it at all. Rey’s theory: either he didn’t hear her, or just like her, he’s pretending it never happened. Whatever it is, she’s content that the topic has never come up, and perhaps she really did hallucinate when she saw his eyes… do the thing like, you know, the _Alpha thing._

“You’re obsessed,” Rose had told her when she came to visit the day after Rey woke up.  

She told Rose about what happened with Doctor Solo—she had to. Or else she’d go nuts.

“I’m so not!” she retorted.

Rose rolled her eyes. “To be fair, Rey,” she shrugged as she poured herself a glass of water. “He is one hot piece of an Alpha. I’d be the same if he held my helpless body in his big, strong hands like a small bird.” She sipped her drink, “Although, I still think it’s weird that you can smell him. Didn’t you up your suppressants a couple of months ago?”

That’s another thing Rey is trying to wrap her head around. Rose can _see_ that Doctor Solo is physically attractive (“But not like those Dorito-shaped actors hot—all shoulders but no ass—he’s like… very tall and massive all over and that ‘wow, I didn’t know that could work but it really does’ kind of hot,” she commented), but she can’t smell him. Medical professionals are legally required to use suppressants, and with the absence of scent from Doctor Solo, Rose concluded that his must be a very strong one.

But Rey could smell him from the moment she regained consciousness. And she obviously could smell him when he came into the room as Rose was trying to convince Rey to embrace her ‘thirsty for doctor’ Omega side (“Well, porn must’ve been at least inspired by reality, right? I mean, people _do_ have kinks…”).

Her breathing had hitched as he entered the room. He wore all black—save for his white coat, walking like he owned the place; authority oozing from him, as though the room suddenly became smaller with his presence.  
  
First of all, there’s his stature. A six-foot-something Alpha with an _impressive_ build. And then, there’s the hair: neck-length jet black goodness. It looks so smooth that Rey often imagines running her fingers through it. He’s got a pale, almost ghostly, complexion with strategically-placed moles and freckles, an angular face with aquiline nose, big adorable ears (mostly) hidden under his hair, a fat (and sinful) mouth—and then, his eyes... fuck, those eyes.

When he raised his head from her chart to her, though, his eyes were just his regular honey-brown eyes. Not the darkened version of them Rey thought she saw in the ER. They were still pretty, but they didn’t make her squirm (as much). And he looked at her studiously again, asking a few questions related to her head and her swollen wrist. Rey had to periodically breathe with her mouth open just so she didn’t inhale his scent too much.

She can’t deny it. Doctor Solo… yeah, he’s _something._

For a start, he’s a good doctor. His bedside manner isn’t exceptional, but he does take care of her well (“Hah, does he now?” Rose snorted. “You sound like he’s already your Alpha or something.” Rey threw a pillow at her).

At first, he was quiet and distant, but after few visits, he became warmer. _Sort of._

“When was your last heat?” he asked that afternoon, after Rose left.

“I—why would—how is that relevant?” Rey stammered, her cheeks turned pinkish.

“You’re an Omega, right?” he still stared at his chart. “Omegas have heats. Alphas and Betas don’t. It’s biology.”

Yeah, there’s that thing. The way he mentions ‘Omegas’ so _condescendingly._ Like Rey thought before, he may be superhot, but he’s still an Alpha. And Alphas are pricks. Rey learned about it even before she knew what her designation was.

“I—I don’t know,” she replied.

He lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t know?” he asked, finally looking at her. “How could you not know? Heat is not exactly something that happens without you knowing. It happens to your whole body, Miss Greyson. It’s not like swallowing a spider when you’re asleep—and by the way, the statistics are incorrect; most people do not accidentally swallow spiders in their sleep.”

What a weird fact addition. But that’s how exactly he always talks to her. Mansplaining. _Alpha… splaining._

“I need to know to pinpoint the exact nature of your attack,” he said.

 _“My_ attack?” she repeated, baffled. “Did you just say, _my_ attack?”

“Yes,” he said calmly. _“Your_ attack, Rey.”

It’s also his thing. Sometimes she’s Miss Greyson to him, sometimes she’s just Rey. And most of the time, it messes with her head. That stupid deep voice.

“I didn’t—” Rey scoffed. “I didn’t start the fight! I thought I already told you. Hell, even Rose told you.”

“Right,” Doctor Solo said, his lips started to tug upward. “You _didn’t_ start the fight, but the fight _happened,_ nonetheless. You beat them up until you busted your wrist, and then you were brought to my care.”

To _his_ care. _Oh._ _That sounds… that sounds…_

“You’re obviously biased!” Rey almost yelled. Why does he _always_ make her this worked up? She narrowed her eyes at him, “You’re an Alpha, of course, you’re taking _their_ side. And just to be clear, I won fair and square. I did not pass out because of the fight!”

“No, you did not,” he put his large hand in front of his large mouth, as though trying to not burst out laughing. “You passed out because you didn’t see a banana peel in front of you, stepped on it, and bumped your head to a lamppost.”

Rey clamped her mouth shut. Embarrassment crept all over her face.

“It was an accident,” she murmured, turning her head away from him. And suddenly she could feel a small spike of emotion from her doctor—like, like _excitement._ And for what, she didn’t know. She brushed it off and stared at the sunny sky outside. He still smelled so good, and Rey was thankful that the nurse had opened the windows.

“But still,” he cleared his throat. “You need to heal. The broken wrist is not a joke, Rey. Even though I must admit that I am impressed.” And then, his voice suddenly dropped an octave. “What a feisty. Little. Omega.”   

Rey felt an unprecedented electric fizzle in her glands. She looked at him, her fingers gripping the fabric of her hospital gown so tightly, trying to prevent herself from being a boneless puddle in front of him.

“Are you—are you even allowed to say that?” she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Say what?”

“Call me— _that.”_

He lifted his eyebrows. “Call you what? An Omega? But that’s what you are.”

“Yeah,” she protested. “But that’s... that's...”

_...kinky. That's what._

“You may call me by my designation if you want,” he put down his board on the bedside table, and then moved forward to her—his eyes never leaving her wrist. “It’s just a part of what I am as much as yours is a part of what you are.”

His hand reached the swelling, and his—this time, gloveless—fingers brushed against hers.

“I can call you…” Rey almost held her breath as their skin touched.

“Yes, Rey,” he inspected her wrist for a moment before looking up at her. His brown eyes were like liquid chocolate.

“You can call me Alpha.”

 

* * *

 

Back in the present, in Doctor Solo’s office, staring his bemused face down like the barrel of a gun, Rey shifts in her seat. She still doesn’t and _won’t_ (she promised herself) call him Alpha, unless she does it in disdain (you know, like, ‘fucking Alpha’—not genuinely). But ever since then, he seems to make her tell him all kinds of things.

She understands that he does it so he can diagnose better in case there's any complication or something like that. But still—but fucking _still!_

He talks with _that_ tone using _that_ voice, and sometimes spikes of emotion she doesn’t understand waft from him—or from _herself._ It’s all complicated.

The day he told her to call him ‘Alpha’ was the day she finally relented and told him about her heats. She doesn’t have many, and she’s not sure if most of the experiences she’s had can be counted as actual heats. She used to be so malnourished that she didn’t present until she was 19 years old, unusually late for an Omega female to present. She thought she was a Beta and was content with that. It wasn’t like she had parents who could show her anything (another detail the doctor managed to get out of her).

“I can teach you,” Doctor Solo told her during another visit, after almost flinching while listening to her story. “I can teach you what you want to know. I’m an MD, I have the obligation to educate my patients. Ask away.”

‘Teach’ is such a strange word for a doctor to say, but it didn’t stop her from getting _almost_ wet. And oh god, she hoped he didn’t scent it.

That’s another thing: she doesn’t know if he can smell her the way she can smell him. She never asks him about his suppressants because: 1) it’s inappropriate since they’re practically strangers; 2) it’ll blow her cover. They do _not_ need to talk about her calling him 'really hot' when she was high on painkillers. Ever.

Rey still doesn’t know why she can smell him so well. And Doctor Solo does smell so, so good that she thinks he should be a work hazard. What if he triggers other Omegas at the hospital into heat?

But, yeah, so far nothing has happened. Well, most people use suppressants. Even Rey does. And she uses the strongest she could get because in her line of work, she has to meet a lot of people, and she used to be an athlete. Athletes tend to use the strongest in the market.

Maybe Doctor Solo’s is not that strong. Maybe Rose was wrong.

“Well, Miss Greyson,” he says. Rey blinks out of her daydream and finds herself back in his office. “I’m not asking you to apologize to them.”

Apologize to _whom?_ Did she just doze off in the middle of their conversation?

“The Alphas,” he clarifies, catching the confused expression on Rey’s face. She hopes he doesn’t think she’s disrespecting him by tuning him out— _but_ is it still considered rude if _he’s_ the person she’s thinking about? Why can’t she get him out of her head, even when he’s _literally_ in front of her?

Rey shifts her body again as he narrows his eyes at her. He's sitting behind the desk, leaning back—probably to accommodate his criminally long legs. The cold wind from his opened windows immediately blows in her direction and she holds her arm with her working hand more tightly.

“You were right," he continues. "What they did was wrong. Alphas should not harass Omegas or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Then, why—”

“I just want to make sure that it won’t happen again.”

Rey frowns. “What won’t happen again?”

“Your friend,” he clears his throat, shifting his body on his swivel chair. “Miss Tico, has told me about your _tendencies."_

She opens her mouth to protest but Doctor Solo gestures his hand for her to wait for him to finish. She’s going to strangle that woman.

“She said you have quite… a temper. And after speaking with you, I can't say that I disagree,” he shrugs, there's a hint of a smirk on his face before he turns serious again. "There are jerks and bullies in this world, Rey, but you can’t just fight them all off.”

_Watch me, Solo. Just watch me._

“I _am_ watching you,” he then says. Rey’s heart drops into her stomach. Did she say that out loud?

He sighs, “You cannot just go to some Alpha and pick a fight with them. Yes, you won this time. But what about next time? I know you’re strong, Rey. And in pretty good health, too—your record tells me what I need to know. But you’re an Omega—”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rey shoots at him, proving his point about her temper. “Because I’m an Omega, I should just lie down and take it?”

_Accidental innuendo. Nice one, Rey._

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies, still calm—and infuriating.

She glares at him.

“You’re an Omega. The world may be getting better, but unfortunately it’s not happening soon enough,” he continues. “It’s still unfair and frustrating, and I will never know what it feels like to be you. And with situations like that, you are also aware of the legal jeopardy you could have been in with an assault and battery case, right? And not just that…” He swallows, and then, “What if you were close to heat when you confront them? Do you know how dangerous that would be? For you, Rey. Not for those Alphas.”

Rey bites her inner cheek, still angry but she knows that he’s _right._

“Your safety is everything...” he says, his voice trails off. And then he’s quiet for a moment as his eyes zero in on her that she finds herself involuntarily swallow thickly. “And I don’t like it if you’re in a close proximity to other Alphas when you’re so close to your heat.”

Wait… what? He _what?_

Rey staggers back and squeezes her legs together. She feels heat start to pool down there. But he keeps staring at her with that unreadable expression of his. And then, before her heartbeat starts to hammer even faster, he clears his throat.

“I mean that as I am your doctor,” he says, his tone suddenly turning nonchalant, as though the tension between them never happened.

“Also, please take pity on other doctors,” he pleads. His mouth quirks into a mischievous smile, “We can only care for so many beaten-down Alphas in one night and we don’t know how to treat dented lamp posts—or banana peels.”

_This jerk._


	3. Part Two, The Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Celcius.

"I need to work."

"You need to heal."

"I'm a mechanic!"

"And I am your doctor," he sighs, kneading his forehead as his elbow leans on the armrest. "That’s final, Rey. Take a leave."

Rey frowns.

"I'm almost healed," she says, lying. "This is not a big deal. Didn’t even hurt."

This is the third time she’s seen him after being discharged from the hospital, and the truth is her arm does kinda hurt. A few hours earlier, Rey got into a small accident at her workplace and was rushed to the ER again.

Doctor Solo, as always, is not having it. He's told Rey so many times during their sessions that she needs to take days off and rest, but she keeps defying his orders. He’s never used his 'Alpha tone' on her and she hoped that maybe he would— _maybe._ She is definitely _not_ excited with that prospect and she is definitely _never_ goading him to use it. Nope. Never.

Rey shakes her head to steer her mind back to the conversation.

"Did your boss force you to work?" he asks—his voice turns sharp again like that time in the ER when he assumed the Alphas were attacking her. "Should I write him a strongly-worded letter or pay him a visit?"

No. In fact, Han, her boss, gave her the same order. "Get some rest, kid," he'd told her. "I don't want you to break both hands."

"My boss is not like that," she replies. Han has never been anything but a great boss to her. Both being Omegas, he understands her situation pretty well. "I'm the one who told him that I want to work. I want to be useful to him."

"Does the idea of being useful to _him_ also mean hurting yourself?" Doctor Solo _scowls._

Rey can sense a hint of repressed emotion from her doctor again. Does he care about her that much? She’s probably just making it more than it actually is: a doctor warning his patient. He's probably like that so he won't have to do more work later.

"I don't—I haven't done my actual work—I mean, I haven't touched an engine since..." she trails off. "I was just helping the admin to do some work."

That one is not a lie. Rey always wants to feel useful and she feels bad for receiving pay if she doesn't do any fixing (plus, she can't afford to not get paid). What she didn't expect, though, is that a desk job also has its own challenges. And she shouldn't have tried to reach that binder from the highest rack. She should’ve asked for help, but she rarely does, even when she’s doing the hard stuff when fixing cars. Getting her wrist broken won’t change that. After all, she’s still got another functioning hand. And it was just a _binder._

But even after she tells him that it wasn’t a big deal, her doctor is still looking at her disapprovingly— _very_ disapprovingly. And maybe, if she wasn't imagining things, she’d think he looked distraught when he saw her that morning in the ER again. He'd rushed to her at once and completely ignored Chewie, a fellow mechanic who drove her to the hospital, and immediately treated her. It's a minor injury—it hurts, but it's not a life-threatening one.

After treating her, he said he wanted to hear about the incident from her mouth, from beginning to end. So she sees him in his office again.

Unlike her previous visits, he goes with her instead of waiting inside. And unlike her previous visits, all windows in his office are closed. But once they’re inside, he goes opening each one of them and turns the cooling fan on—it's 13 degrees outside.

 _Well,_ she thinks, _maybe it's an Alpha thing._ Maybe Alphas are always hot.

But she is not an Alpha, and she is cold. And answering his intrusive questions with chattering teeth is not a pleasant experience.

Doctor Solo's definitely caught on after a while, so he gets to his feet and closes the windows and turns the fan to himself instead (why he keeps a big oscillating fan in his office when there’s already air conditioning is another mystery—and such a waste of electricity). But because of that, his hair sorta moves like he's in a photoshoot and she hates that he looks so good like that.

Rey is thankful for the thick scarf snaking her neck and half of her face because she’s been repeatedly licking her lips. She even casts her eyes down during most of the conversation—like a _good Omega—ugh._ But it’s better to make Doctor Solo think she feels guilty for bothering him rather than being aware of the embarrassing carnal situation she’s been dealing with ever since she met him.

She is fucked. Although, unfortunately, not literally.

“Does this happen a lot?” he frowns, his fingers tapping on the table. “The injuries?”

He is annoyed, Rey thinks. But she can’t help noticing his fingers instead. How long and thick…

“Um,” she darts her eyes to the ceiling. “Sometimes. I mean, it’s not like I can help it. I work with machinery, so it’s not unusual.” Feeling a wave of spiking emotions from him again, Rey immediately adds, “But it’s always small injuries that can be fixed with band-aids or ice—”

“So they happen _frequently?"_

“They’re minor!”

“Still injuries,” he says, his frown getting deeper. “How do you take care of yourself, Rey Greyson? Don’t you have…”

She sees him swallow, as though trying to pick the right words. But Rey already knows what he means.

“You know I’m not mated, right?” she snaps. Once again he proves himself to be another judgmental Alpha—'no Omega can take care of themselves without an Alpha' bullshit. _Fuck that._ “It’s in my file.”

“But do you… at least…”

“I don’t have…” she pauses. Her cheeks start to blush. “I don’t have… a partner.”

_And I don’t plan to have an Alpha partner either. They’re too…_

She looks at him and sees his eyes widen. Did she just say that out loud?

“Why not?” he asks, looking as though he just got slapped in the face—maybe she's also imagining this. “Why don’t you want to have an Alpha partner?”

 _Oh._ She _did_ say that out loud.

“They’re too what?”

_Domineering. Angry. Selfish. Arrogant…_

“Never mind,” she shrugs. “And I think I can handle myself, thank you.”

He is quiet then. Reserved, leaning back in his chair with one hand covering his mouth. She can see his shoulders move every time he breathes and when she darts her eyes to his face, he is already staring at her. There is… something that she can’t quite decipher in the way he looks at her.

The silence stretches a bit too long and Rey starts to feel her palms sweat.

“So…” she starts.

Doctor Solo raises his eyebrows, as though Rey just interrupts him from a deep thought. He blinks and then grabs the corners of the armrests.

“Right,” he takes a deep breath and exhales, and then pauses as if he just realizes something. His face looks alarmed for a brief moment before he takes the remote control on his desk and maxes out the speed of the fan. His hair comically goes wild and the papers on his desk almost fly all over the floor if it wasn’t for the weights he immediately put on them.

 _Summers must be tough for him,_ Rey thinks as she zips up her jacket.

“Your next visit is scheduled for next week, correct?” he says as he takes a notepad and starts writing. She nods.

The air of professionalism is back again. He’s got beautiful handwriting, she notices. And looking at the various certificates on his office wall, he seems to be able to do a lot of stuff as well. And if she’s being honest, she harbors some combination of admiration and resentment towards him. Doctor Solo is the kind of person who probably just wins in life. An accomplished man who has his shit together. And looking at how he dresses, he seems to be wealthy, too. He’s obviously older than her, but Rey realizes that she doesn’t _really_ know anything about him. She just picks up on little clues. She can’t fairly judge anything about him.

Nor can he judge her. Maybe to him, taking days off from work would solve her problem. But Rey _has_ to work. Her boss is amazing, so are her co-workers. But she _needs_ to work. And Doctor Solo has no idea what she’s been through.

Not working and just relying on an Alpha partner, that’s probably what he thinks an Omega is supposed to do.

It isn’t that she thinks of him as a conservative Alpha; in fact, he’s proven to be empathetic and pretty progressive. But he’s still an Alpha which means he’s probably grown up around toxic, like-minded Alphas. It’s systemic, but it doesn’t mean it should be the rule.

Her boss, Han, is married to an Alpha and their son turned out to be an Alpha, too. He’s told her that from the beginning, he and his wife educated their son to be considerate and respectful. “I’ll whack him in the head if he dares to put his hand on an Omega without consent,” he said during one of their lunches. He gave a little laugh at the time, but Rey felt that it was more out of discomfort than anything else. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. He wouldn’t dare. He's a good kid—too good, maybe. Although in retrospect, we were also a bit too harsh on him. Poor kid never got to fool around with his Alpha friends—it sorta worried me.” He then shook his head and laughed, “He's a big nerd—don't tell him I said that.”

Now that she thinks of Han’s family, Rey wonders what kind of family Doctor Solo has. Which one of his parents is an Alpha? His father? His mother? Does he see them a lot? Han’s son rarely even calls because he’s always too busy. “He’s an adult with a serious job,” Han told her. “My wife wants him to call or visit every once in a while, but he seems to be married to his work.”

Speaking of being married, Rey notices that Doctor Solo, fortunately _(fortunately?),_ is not married. Or if he is, he puts away his wedding band when working. But maybe he’s already mated.

Her stomach churns at the thought.

Maybe his partner is like what he wants all Omegas to be—regardless of how progressive he presents himself as. Maybe they’re waiting for him at home. They probably cook for him. They probably iron his shirts like the one he's wearing at the moment. They probably massage his broad shoulders as he complains about his one annoying patient who keeps hurting herself and makes his job harder. “Honey,” she imagines him saying. “You won’t believe what just happened. That Omega…”

Does he talk about her when she’s not around? Does he think about her? Does his partner know about her, too?

Rey feels suddenly guilty for interrupting a hypothetical couple’s home. Even if Doctor Solo talks about her with his partner, it must be about mundane stuff because she’s just another patient to him. What a silly thought that she could be more than that.

Whether she wants to admit it or not, Rey is definitely—hopelessly, maybe, attracted to the man. It’s just a crush, sure. He’s probably got admirers, and she is just one of many. Once their business is done, they won’t have to interact again. And he’ll be just a face she sometimes imagines when she touches herself, just like how it’s always been lately (although the broken wrist has made it a bit difficult). It’s probably going to be a bit more intense during her heat— _oh, shit._

Her heat.

Rey’s never had regular heats—she's probably only had two major cases of heat that match the tell-tale symptoms. Usually, her joints and lower back hurt and she has difficulty sleeping. She’s already experienced the joint pain and sleeping trouble, but she thought it was just because winter is almost here. But can it be because her heat is coming?

Should she tell Doctor Solo? But why the sudden urge to tell him? Is it so that he can adjust the medication? Or so that he…

“I can help you.”

_What?_

Rey looks at him like she just saw a ghost. Did she say that out loud again? But why would… if he’s got a partner… wh—

“Are you listening? Earth to Rey?” he tilts his head as he lowers the speed of the fan. And then he stares at her intently, as though searching for something. “You look pale,” he says. “Are you alright?”

She opens her mouth but no sound comes out. _What help?_

“I’m—uh—I’m fine,” she blinks and then darts her eyes to her boots. “You were… saying?”

She hears him sigh. “I said if you hurt yourself again, you may contact me. You don’t need to come through the emergency room. And if these injuries happens as often as you said, I can help and intervene. It’s not that I think you can’t take care of yourself, Rey. I know you can. But between this minor injury and your more major injury… I don’t think I can leave my patient be in that situation.” He pauses for a while, “At least not until your wrist is healed.”

His _patient._ Well, isn’t that what she is?

Rey feels relieved, but a bit disappointed that he didn’t offer himself to help her with _that_ other problem.

“Okay,” she nods. And then she raises her head at him again. His thick hair moves so perfectly from the huffs of the fan and Rey wants to run her fingers through it. “I’ll see you next week, then?”

Maybe it’s just her brain playing trick on her again, but he seems to be taken aback by her parting words. He clears his throat, “Yes. I’ll see you next week.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll dress in a giant bubble wrap—wait no, I’ll live inside a giant bubble wrap castle,” she stands up and flashes him a big, wide grin. “Does that work for you, Doctor Solo?”

 _Now_ she can see him visibly gulping.


	4. Part Three, The Growing Pains

Ben Solo is fucked.

That’s one way to put it.

He wasn’t even supposed to work that evening. He’d just gotten out of a long shift when Jyn Erso-Andor, his colleague, asked him for a substitute.

“Solo, I’m very pregnant,” she told him over the phone. “And you were right. I think I need to take an early leave. And if I don’t, my handsome Omega husband would just follow me everywhere—I love you too, baby, it’s just Solo—can you cover my shift, please?”

Well, he couldn’t say no. It wasn’t like he had any plans. He _never_ had any plans.

Ever since he left home at the age of eighteen, he’s never lived with anyone. Always alone; an Alpha with no pack (although, in retrospect, he didn’t regret that one bit. Other Alphas have always tended to make him uncomfortable with their loud, hormone-addled behavior, so he'd rather spend his time alone—reading and going to museum like a 'pretentious asshole'). He’s dated two Omegas before, but neither ended well.

“Why don’t you want to knot me, Alpha?” his college girlfriend had whined—during her heat. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

When an Omega, _in heat_ no less, says that to you, you know you must be a shitty Alpha.

It isn’t that he can’t do it or doesn’t have the same desires as other Alphas, he’s just…

Well, he can maybe blame his family for that.

Ben Solo presented when he was thirteen. It’s on the young side, but it isn’t unusual. His parents thought differently. Growing up feeling restless and anxious most of the time, Ben was prone to lashing out when he felt intimidated by outside forces. He once punched a teacher, Mr. San Tekka, in the middle of a gym class because he commented on Ben’s long hair (it wasn’t that long, but for good reason, schools for Alpha boys are always that strict). And that summer and every summer after that, Ben was sent to his uncle’s camp to ‘help out.’

His uncle, Luke, is an Alpha who never mated. It’s strange but Ben thought he’d rather grow up like that than experience the pain of being in rut. Luke owns a rehabilitation camp—but not like a conversion therapy—for Alpha juveniles. Ben has never broken any laws as a teenager (even as an adult, the worst he’s done is get a speeding ticket), and yet, he was sent there so he wouldn’t punch another teacher—or some Omega in the future.

Luke wanted him to be a model student. He wanted Ben to show the other Alphas how to behave in society. It took him a while to adjust to that expectation, but once he got used to it, it wasn’t that hard. But as he grew up, Ben really, really regretted how good of a boy he’d become. His boy scout credentials ruined his relationships with Omegas—and other Alphas.

He never wanted to hurt anyone, even when they asked him to. “Choke me, Alpha,” an Omega he hooked up with pled, and he was flustered as he said, “I—uh, I’d rather not.”

He’s also very reliant on his suppressants and blockers so he can function well—especially since he works in healthcare. He’s very good at separating business and personal matters—his peers call him ‘intense’ for that reason (although he doesn’t get it). Even in the face of an Omega patient in heat, Ben Solo won’t budge. And if his hormones get the best of him, he always finds a way to cope outside his work hours. Booty calls, one night stands—whatever it takes. But he never finds himself drawn to other people’s glands when fucking them, and he never loses his cool.

That is, until _her._

Rey Greyson showed up at his hospital, beaten up and unconscious. A _much_ younger Omega with heavenly scent—and later he learned, an attitude. And in that instant, Ben Solo knew he was fucked.

At first he blamed his exhaustion, given that he’d been at the tail end of a 72-hour-long shift. And she must have been very, very high when she told him that he was ‘really hot’ (he needed to calm down his dick after that—thank god for his lab coat).

But apparently, even after he got some rest and upped his suppressants, he could still very much smell her. He checked with the residents and nurses if they could also smell her, but they all said they couldn’t. So, it’s just him and that’s… well, _bad._

He can easily build a case on how much trouble Rey Greyson is. One, she smells really sweet and good and soft and oh, he’d love to rub his nose on her glands. Two, she is beautiful—a pretty brunette with tanned skin and freckles and a taut, athletic body. He’s never had a type, but she definitely is one. He could die of heart attack whenever she looks at him with her piercing green eyes, _always_ ready to challenge him. Three, she can definitely punch him in the face like she did to those deserving Alphas—and sometimes he wishes she could just do that to him so he wouldn’t think improper thoughts when treating her.

Ben Solo’s always been doing his best. He is a medical professional and he knows who he is.

But still, sometimes his stupid Alpha brain sneaks out and makes a fool of himself. It doesn’t go over his head that sometimes he finds her flustered in front of him and he _enjoys_ that. He thinks it’s just Omega instinct—he’s seen stuff like this a lot. He doesn’t consider himself conventionally good looking, but he’s not unaware of his body. And Omegas tend to… well, they tend to look at him like that—especially if they’re close to heat.

Ben would never admit to her that his crush has gotten so big that he should probably refer her to another doctor. And it’s not easy since he can always smell her—at first, opening the windows sorta helped to waft out her scent, but now the weather has gotten colder, and the oscillating fan makes him look ridiculous. But regardless of all that, Ben always wants her to stay as long as possible (what did he think, really? Telling her to just call him if she hurts herself again? He would never do that for other patients—not in a million years).

And if his Alpha brain’s being honest, he wants to take care of her—although he knows that she probably doesn’t want that.

Then she literally said she didn’t want to have an Alpha partner. Well, _ouch._

It’s not that he thinks he’d throw away his professionalism and just hit on her mercilessly. And maybe there have been moments of weakness— _so_ many moments of weakness—where a small voice in his head whispers, “You know, Solo, once she’s healed, she’s no longer your patient. Then you can…”

But she doesn’t like Alphas. And certainly, she doesn’t like Alphas like _him._ Ben Solo, the boy scout. Ben Solo, an Alpha who needs to meditate two hours a day to maintain his boy-scoutness so he won’t punch someone and break their nose _._ What a contradiction! Ben Solo and his repulsive personality!

Thus, he’s decided to just enjoy her presence as much as he can. Sure, he misses her every day and always looks forward to their meeting. Sure, he jerks off at the fantasy of her in his bed (after which he feels guilty). Sure, he loves seeing her reddened face when he teases her a little bit (he knows he should stop, but the pay-off is too damn good). Sure, he’d like to scent her—

…he’d like to scent her…

“Ow!”

Ben blinks and raises his head from the chart he’s been staring at (but not paying attention to), and her delicious smell fills his nose in an instant. He looks beyond the chart and sees Rey Greyson rubbing her forehead in front of him. And just like him, it seems the situation’s just dawned on her.

“Doctor… Solo?”

Oh, he likes that. He likes how she calls him that. His name, which he hears a thousand times a day, sounds so much _better_ coming from her.

He looks around and then back to her. They’re in the hallway of his hospital. She’s not supposed to be there. They’re meeting next Tuesday, so why would she…

“Why—” her eyebrows are furrowed, she looks frustrated as though he’s just insulted her or something (she does that face a lot and sometimes he thinks she _hates_ him). “You’re not supposed to be here!”

Ben blinks again.

“Rey,” he says. He swears he sees her shoulders tense for a moment when he calls her name. “You do know I work here, right? There’s a bigger chance of you finding me than me finding you here.”

 _And I don’t mind finding you here,_ he thinks. _Please come more often. Omega_ — _no._

“I… true,” she averts her eyes away from him. “I just… I didn’t expect to see you here. I mean, not this hospital here. But this… _here.”_

Her cheeks turn pinkish again and Ben’s heart sings at how adorable she looks. _Omega omega omega—NO._

Ben clears his throat. “Why are you here?” he asks, but then frowns as his eyes dart to the band-aid on her arm he didn’t see yesterday. And there’s another band-aid few inches from her tattooed cast. Did she hurt herself again? He should’ve _protected_ her—

She seems to realize that Ben’s attention is interrupted by her fresh wounds, so she covers her arm. “It’s nothing,” she says. “Just some small incident in the kitchen. I didn’t want to bother you just for that.”

Oh, but he’d love to. He’d love her to bother him even for the smallest and most meaningless inconvenience.

“You need to be careful,” he tells her, still trying to appear aloof. “You’re not healed yet. And you’re supposed to be at home, resting. Why are you here, Rey?”

Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open. But instead of saying something, she gets more and more flustered. Ben tilts his head, searching her face. “I, um,…” she bites her lower lip.

“Rey!” he jerks his head to the source of the voice. Rey Greyson’s friend, Rose Tico, lightly jogs towards her. “Have you gotten your heat-blocker yet?”

Heat… _heat-blocker…?_

If Rey Greyson’s cheeks were red before, now her entire face and neck are, too. She glares at her friend and mouths something to her. And Rose Tico immediately looks up at him and covers her mouth.

“Shit,” she says. And then she waves her hand, “Hi… Doctor Solo.”

“What do you need heat-blocker for?” he asks bluntly. He would’ve considered being more polite than that, given that her friend is also there with them. But Ben just doesn’t care. His heart has sunk deep in his stomach and a spiking scent wafts out of her, like she is in conflict with herself. He hopes he doesn’t scare her, but god, he wants to know. “Are you…”

Suddenly, she grabs him by his wrist— _oh god, oh god_ —and drags him to a more secluded part of the hallway.

“I’m not in heat!” she hushed a bit harshly. And then pulls her hand away from him, looking so unsure. “…yet.”

_Oh. God._

“Then why do you need a blocker?” Ben knows his voice is tinged with worry—he doesn’t care. “Why don’t you want to have your heat?”

Intrusive. It has nothing to do with him, he knows. And how long can he use the doctor excuse?

“Rey,” he says, his voice thick. “You said your heat is irregular and you only had two major cases of it. Medically speaking—” He feels the collar of his shirt starts straining on his neck, “—it is not advisable to put off your heat. It could be harmful to your body.”

“Doctor Kalonia said the same thing, but…” she bites her lower lip. “I need this.”

“Why?” Ben is surprised that he can still make a sound. And it is unmistakable that yes, she’s probably very close to heat. Because that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because he can faintly smell her arousal—a delicious Omega smell that makes his mouth water and his cock twitch. And it’s totally because of her upcoming heat, not… not… _his_ presence.

_Right?_

“I’m following your advice!”

Ben scrunches up his eyebrows. _“My_ advice?”

 _“Your_ advice,” she repeats, impatient. “You said I shouldn’t be near some Alpha if I’m close to heat so I won’t get myself in trouble. So, I’m doing exactly that. I don’t always… succumb to my temper, you know.”

_Who? Who is this 'some Alpha'?_

It’s not his place to be so worked up about this. It’s not his place to have the urge to just throw her over his shoulder like a caveman to protect her from danger—from the other unworthy Alphas. But Ben can’t help feeling that it’s exactly what he wants to do. Biology is a stupid thing.

But, Ben Solo is a trained professional who’s spent his youth in an Alpha rehabilitation camp. He—gripping the chart tightly—can be calm and collected. Ben Solo, a doctor. Ben Solo, a fucking boy scout.

“Are you surrounded by Alphas?” he asks. “At your workplace?”

_Didn’t I tell you to take a leave?_

“No,” she shrugs. “Well, my boss told me to stay home or he’d fire me.”

“Then,” he clears his throat. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Honestly, it pains him to ask that question. She’s told him she doesn’t have a partner and she doesn’t want an Alpha, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a casual hookup—or something like that. It’s a common thing for an Omega to have multiple casual—fuck, is he projecting his own sad and lonely life on her? _Biology,_ he repeats, _is a stupid thing._

“No!” Rey shakes her head quickly. “Nothing like that. I don’t… I live alone.”

 _Yes—no, she’s_ still _your patient, Solo. Get a fucking grip._

“Then it’s not a problem if you have your heat,” he tells her. “But of course, it’s your decision, Miss Greyson. As a medical professional, I advise you to have one.”

She looks at him like he just said something outrageous to her. She then turns her face away, “It’s easy for you to say that.”

Ben’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead, “How so?”

“You’re an Alpha,” she stares at him again. “Being in rut gives you power. But for an Omega, being in heat feels like power is taken away from you. I’m sure if you ask _your_ Omega…” She shakes her head, “Never mind. You won’t understand. I’m taking the blocker.”

He’s quiet for a moment. And then, “If you say so.”

Rey seems to be perplexed by his response. “You won’t debate me any further?”

“No,” he shrugs. "At the end of the day, it’s your choice. I just want you to be safe so you can heal properly. And yeah, I agree. Maybe you need to stay away from Alphas for a while.” He points his chin at her cast and smiles, “At least until you can pick a fight with them again.”

She looks up at him, doe-eyed and cheeks blushed. She then bites her lower lip (is this her thing? _Is it?_ _),_ and that visual alone has already sent a rush of blood right from his brain to his groin and Ben wishes he would just pass out. She could’ve roundhouse kicked him instead and he'd be thankful to not have had this conversation. But alas, all he can do is just stare and swallow— _thickly._

Her lips start to tug upward before she looks nervous again. “Well, not all Alphas,” she mutters.

“Huh?”

Her voice is soft when she says, “I still have to see you.”

Oh.

_Oh. Fuck._


	5. Part Four, The Remedy

She could be wrong.

Well, no. She could be _very_ wrong and everything could end up in disaster.

There is no way her doctor is interested in her. No way. Just like she imagined his eyes darkening in the ER, she must’ve imagined the same darkness again when the conversation about her heat came up in front of Doctor Kalonia’s office.

But what about his scent? What’s the explanation for the surge of its strength, a bit muskier, when she told him about her upcoming heat? Could it be just an Alpha thing? Maybe it was just because he’s an Alpha and Alphas have primal attraction to Omegas in heat—or close to heat. It’s not because—

“Can you please stop pacing around?” Rose rolls her eyes. “If you’re worried so much, why don’t you ask him? You still have a couple of appointments left, right?”

“What—no, why would I do that?” Rey flusters. “That would be insane!”

“Well, you’re driving _me_ insane!” Rose leans back on the couch. “He said you can contact him any time, right? To ask him stuff? Do it then. Tell him that—” She puts her hand on her chest and sighs, “—you’re in heat and you need a big, strong Alpha to take care of you.” She drops her hand and sits up, “And it’s an emergency—isn’t that what he does? He’s an ER doctor, right? You. Heat. _Emergency.”_

“That’s not what an ER doctor does,” Rey gestures her free arm vaguely. “Also, I have my blocker. I won’t be in heat. In fact, I feel better already.”

No, she doesn’t. If the incessant need to masturbate while imagining her doctor is pounding into her instead of her own pathetic fingers and dumb dildo… well, yeah, she feels better. _Much better._

“Then stop taking blockers, go on full heat, and call Doctor Sexy.”

“Rose!”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “You burden yourself with stuff like this when you could just ask and bone. Didn’t your boss tell you to take a leave? Use it accordingly, Rey. _Use_ it.”

Rey opens her mouth and then closes it again. “Ah,” Rose narrows her eyes. “You’re considering it.”

“I’m not!”

“Are, too.”

“I—Rose, that is so wrong, like really wrong,” Rey plops herself next to her best friend on the couch. “He’s my _doctor_ —and he’s still treating me. I can’t just do that. He would think I’m a pervert or something. Also, it’s so inappropriate to ask a random Alpha to do stuff like that.”

“But people use Tinder exactly for that, though. It’s not that ridiculous. And he’s not some rando. He’s your hot doctor.”

“But this is not Tinder, this is Naberrie-Skywalker hospital,” she tells her. “And no, I’m not going to ask my 'hot' doctor to fuck me.”

_Even though I really, really, really want to._

Rose props her head on her arm, and then rolls her eyes again. “Alright. Suit yourself.”

“I mean, he’s still my doctor at least for the next few weeks,” Rey says. “And then I’m healed and he’s not anymore.”

“Oh,” Rose raises her eyebrows, although her expression flat. “You’re not done talking about this.”

“Even if I’m no longer his patient, he might not be interested. Because he could’ve been mated, and I’ll look like a f—”

“No, he isn’t.”

Rey blinks. “He isn’t what?”

Rose says matter-of-factly, “Mated. He isn’t.”

“How did you know?”

“Finn told me.”

“Who’s Finn?”

“A nurse I made friends with,” Rose wiggles her eyebrows. “Doctor Solo lives alone, unmated. He’s probably too intimidating for most Omegas—well, Finn said he is intimidating other Alphas as well. Something about him being in an Alpha camp when he was younger or something. You see, Rey, that kind of information can be easily obtained if you just ask… and bone.”

“Wha—did you and that nurse?”

“Finn’s cute, okay?” Rose waves her hand furiously. “And I didn’t do it for you. I mean, I _did_ ask the question for you, but the boning part—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Rey scowls as Rose grins in satisfaction.

Later that night, the thought of Doctor Solo being unmated doesn’t leave her mind.

In fact, it intensifies her fantasy about him (oh, maybe Rose was right; maybe it _is_ her kink—she’ll never tell her that), but it also makes her excited. Because, if it’s true that he is unmated and living alone, just like her, then it is not the worst thing to be attracted to him.

Well, maybe the fact that he’s still her doctor and she’s told him that she doesn’t want an Alpha partner could get in the way. But it’s not like she hates Alphas; she just can’t stand the stereotypical Alpha behavior that society has enabled for centuries.

‘Let Alphas be Alphas’ is such a fucked-up thing to say.

And it’s not like she wants to _mate_ with him. That’s too crazy, even by her standards. They could just… you know, be casual. Rey slaps both of her cheeks in embarrassment, and then yelps in pain right after realizing she did it with her injured hand.

Well, reality check: maybe it’ll stay imaginary, her relationship with him. _Maybe._

However, she can’t help thinking about how he looks at her sometimes—what if she wasn’t just imagining things? What if he really is…

By the next morning, Rey has developed some new theories: 1) Doctor Solo is interested in her but he’s her doctor so he won’t do anything about it (this, as Rose said, can actually be ‘remedied’); 2) (And this is a long shot) Doctor Solo can smell her just like she can smell him and that means they’re _compatible._

The latter is something that’s been plaguing her mind for some time. She doesn’t know if she can prove it since the evidence is so thin. And she doesn’t even believe the idea of compatibility that much. But that brief moment in his office, when he looked so alarmed after he took a deep breath…

She could’ve just imagined it, but there’s no harm in finding out if it’s true or not. They still have few appointments left. And if it’s true that he’s interested in her _and_ he can smell her, well, the next visit is going to be _a lot_ more interesting.


	6. Part Five, The Therapy

When Rey enters Doctor Solo’s office on Tuesday, she is welcomed by the sweet scent of pomegranate and vanilla with a hint of spices. She looks around and finds all the windows are now closed, and the room is much warmer than the last time she was there. And in spite of these changes, Doctor Solo is sitting behind his desk and writing, unbothered.

After a few minutes, he raises his head. “Rey,” he nods. “Please sit down.”

Rey untangles her scarf from her neck with one hand as she stares at the scented candle sitting on Doctor Solo’s desk. He notices it and then leans back to his chair, “The weather’s getting colder so, I can’t keep the windows—” he clears his throat, “—open.”

“Aren’t you hot?” she asks without thinking, and then flushes in embarrassment at how awkward it sounds. She remembers her first words to him.

_You’re really hot._

“Hot?” he repeats, there’s a twitch under his eye. “Why am I hot?”

“Because… you’re an Alpha?” now she thinks she sounds dumb. “And Alphas tend to be h—I’m talking about body temperature, not…”

For a moment, there’s a glint in his eyes before he looks down at his notepad, his jaw working as though he’s trying to hold back a smile—or a scowl, it’s hard to tell.

She can smell a hint of excitement again from him, although this time it’s a bit dampened by the scented candle. She raises her eyebrows. Is that the reason why he puts a candle between them? _Does he really think it’ll work?_

Rey is amused, but she snaps out of it and reminds herself why she’s there (aside from, you know, her actual appointment).

“I like it,” she says while crossing her legs. Doctor Solo’s eyes flick to her tight-covered legs before immediately darting at her face. Rey holds a smile as she inwardly fist-pumps at the not-so-subtle attention.

“What?” he asks.

“The candle,” she tugs her hair behind her ear with one hand. She then bats her eyelashes seductively (she’s practiced all morning), “I like it.”

Rey came prepared: hair down and fresh from blow drying, barely-there makeup, the cutest sweater she owns, green miniskirt (she almost wore jeans because she thought his office would be freezing like the last time—now she’s glad that it isn’t), black tights, and her usual combat boots—she almost looks like Santa’s elf and she’s proud of it. It’s a bit of an effort when your dominant hand is in a cast, but never underestimate an Omega who can beat up two Alphas near the dumpster in a Waffle House parking lot. Especially when she’s on a mission.

“Oh,” Doctor Solo swallows. “I got it on sale.”

Her mind drifts to the picture of Doctor Solo wearing casual clothing and strolling past a shopping mall—or doing anything normal and domestic. Rey bites her lip.

“I got mine on sale, too,” she says in a genuine excitement. Doctor Solo’s ears perk up. She continues, “I have this exact one and it’s my favorite.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Yeah, but I only use it for special occasions.”

“Like what?”

“Like, um,” she looks at the ceiling, pretending to think. “When I just had a long day and just want to have a nice and relaxing bath. Like that day after I got discharged from the hospital.”

He shifts a little and nods noncommittally. Rey continues, not missing the spiking scent coming from him in spite of the candle (another fist-pump!), “Did you know they have bath bombs with the same scent? I got that one, too. There’s nothing better than being all soaked up, surrounded by your favorite scent—” Doctor Solo’s jaw is clenched. “—and honestly, when I stepped into this room, all I could think about was just me and my bathtub—”

And with that, Doctor Solo coughs.

“I’m—I’m fine,” he croaks when Rey stands up to check on him, furrowing her brow in feigned concern. “It’s just an allergy. Please sit down.”

It _isn’t_ just an allergy, she knows that. She keeps silent and just stares at him, looking for clues and affirmation. Doctor Solo takes a sip of water and then his eyes are back at his notepad again and Rey feels a bit disappointed. “How’s your hand?” he asks.

She’s caught off guard. “It’s… fine.”

Doctor Solo nods and gestures to the examination table. Rey gets to her feet and walks to the table before sitting at the edge of it. He follows and stands right in front of her, his long arm reaches the top of the curtain and pulls it closed, shielding them from the rest of the room. It should feel claustrophobic being in such a narrow space with a large man like him, but Rey finds it strangely comforting. Aside from the hallway, she’s only ever seen him in one of the ER’s cubicles or this office—she prefers it in here. _Obviously._

She bites her lower lip in anticipation, her eyes flickering to him. From this angle, she can really appreciate his broad shoulders, his pretty face and glorious hair, and how even though the table is high, he is still _tall._

Rey imagines his strong arms caging her on her bed as his scent so deliciously confines her entire being. The thought makes her shift a little, keeping her knees pressed together. Her short skirt is bunching upward, but she has no inclination to fix it. She gently pushes her hair away from her shoulder, subtly baring one of her scent glands to him.

Her doctor takes her injured hand and looks at it intently. “Does it hurt?” he asks softly— _so intimate._

“No,” she breathes. They are so close that she feels herself clenching her thighs. She’s never had such reaction to an Alpha before—not even when she’s close to heat. It’s a strange thing. It’s not that she’s never been with an Alpha or two before; she’s not a virgin. She’s just not into them that much. But with Doctor Solo… how can she explain  _this?_

At first, it’s his smell. It’s the best she’s ever scented. So masculine and earthy, dark and intoxicating like it’s made specifically for her to inhale and sleep on. And then, there’s him. He is infuriating at times, sure, with his know-it-all-smarty-pants talk—but maybe it’s because it’s his job to berate her out of doing dumb things. But there is also his soft gaze and the warm, familiar touch of his fingers on her skin—how delicate, how caring.

 _Does he treat his other patients the same way?_ She smiles at how funny that question is and how troubled it’s made her. After being jealous of his non-existent partner, she now aims the same ugly feeling at his other patients. It’s as though she tries to find any reason to be mad or, if she’s being honest, she starts treating him as if he’s _hers_ already.

“That’s it,” he says. “You’re good to go.”

_…Huh?_

Rey blinks. Doctor Solo has already opened the curtains and moved back to his seat. She opens her mouth but her words die on her lips. _That’s it?_

She shuffles to get back to her feet and then brings herself to stand in front of his desk. Her eyebrows are furrowed while her doctor is busy with his damn notepad again. After a while, he raises his head. “You may leave, Miss Greyson,” he says. “I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

In an instant, Rey feels humiliated. She’s staring at a man who, in spite of her best efforts at _flirting_ , seems to be occupied with his own mind—detached, business-like. _Shit._ _What the fuck am I doing?_

“Doctor Solo, I—”

Without raising his eyes he says, “Good day, Miss Greyson.”

And with that, Rey swallows her wounded pride, takes her scarf, and leaves.


	7. Part Six, The Regular Check-Up

Rey’s going through the whole week trying to forget that encounter. Instead of looking forward to their meeting like she used to, she starts dreading it. Now everything she’s observed about Doctor Solo appears to her in a whole new light. It doesn’t matter if he can smell her—maybe he can, maybe he can’t, who cares—because he doesn’t want anything to do with her outside their doctor-patient business. _Compatibility, my ass._ She feels stupid to have even let herself think that.

Maybe he was pretending he didn’t hear her that night in the ER, because why would he admit it? She’s much younger than him—Rey suspects he could be a decade or just half a decade older than her; he can look like he’s in his twenties or thirties at the same time (which also infuriates her). And he’s been a doctor for how long? He must’ve met hundreds of patients like her. She can’t stop thinking about how pathetic she must’ve looked. An Omega, thirsty for an Alpha. How typical.

Thank fuck, she’s been taking her blocker because things could’ve gotten more embarrassing than that.

Her week continues to go badly. Her boss still insists on her staying home, Rose is busy with Finn the Cute Nurse when she’s not working (Rey’s met him and to be fair, he’s a really cool guy), the heater in her apartment is shit, her go-to social media just banned adult content so she can’t even blow off steam, and her blocker works better than she’s expected it to be to the point that she can’t come even after furiously rubbing her fucking clit. Her functional wrist might as well be covered in a cast from working it too hard. And her horniness won’t go away because she can’t stop thinking about her goddamn doctor!

The more she thinks about him, the more cranky she gets. She imagines him looking so smug in all his Alpha glory, with the patronizing tone he uses when he’s explaining stuff to her. He talks a lot sometimes, giving a lot of information to take in all the while talking to her like she’s a five year-old. _What an ass!_

 _And_ —sometimes, she thinks of how he _revels_ in embarrassing her. Casually talking with his low and deep voice so smoothly and making her blush—ugh, why the hell does she always blush in front of him? Stupid biology. Stupid Alpha. Doctor ‘Stupid Nerd’ Solo can suck her—

And repeat. Then Tuesday comes again.

Rey has to drag herself to the hospital. She wants to oversleep and miss their appointment. But she’s a light sleeper, and her body is used to schedules—and she’s got nothing to do at home, anyway. And now that she has to face him, she wants him to not think of her as a horny Omega. She decides to dress down, only wearing her old university sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants under her years-old coat, hair up in a half-assed ponytail.

 _I went on a date,_ she imagines herself telling him _if_ he somehow asked about her dolled-up look the previous week. _It was totally not for you. Why would I?_ She imagines herself laughing condescendingly at him, _Oh my god, Doctor Solo, you’re my doctor._ And then he’d be like, _Forgive me, Miss Greyson. How awful of me. What a misguided and dimwitted Alpha I’ve been._

But of course, right as Rey Greyson acts out that scenario in her head and almost laughs maniacally, some jerk in a Jeep decides to splash a dirty puddle, spraying her completely, right outside the hospital. She yells at the Jeep angrily, but knows that it’s useless. She imagines her doctor lecturing her about not getting in trouble and mind her own _lowly_ Omega business (he’s never said the latter but Rey tends to think the worst of him these days).

However, when she actually does see him, the real Doctor Solo just stares at her with his mouth open. He looks over her, his expression unreadable, while Rey glares at him. “Look, Doc—”

Before she can finish her sentence, Doctor Solo has already taken her arm and walked her to the examination table. “Wait here,” he says before leaving her alone in his office (which now reeks of that cloying hospital smell—like disinfectant or bleach).

He comes back with towels in his hands. And without asking her permission, he covers her shoulders with the bigger towel and her head with the smaller one. His hands then go on drying her hair, gently rubbing her head like it’s a delicate thing. Rey’s heart shoots through her ribs.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and hands working the towel on her hair.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, releasing the sad plastic rubber band from her sad ponytail while ignoring her own thundering heartbeat. “Some asshole with a Jeep.”

“Did you take a good look at their plate?”

“No.”

He pauses. Rey looks up and finds him staring at her with a deep frown and a clenched jaw. She can’t help but take in his scent. There’s… something. It’s almost as if he—

There’s a knock on the door. Rey and Doctor Solo jump and pull back from each other (were they that close together?). A small blonde nurse cocks her head from behind the curtain. “Doctor Solo,” she says. “The scrubs you asked for.”

Doctor Solo glances at Rey for a moment and then goes to the nurse. “Yes,” he says as he disappears between the curtains. “Of course.”

When he comes back, he puts down the scrubs next to her. Rey raises her eyebrow at him. “Are those for me?”

He takes a few steps back and nods. “You’re soaked,” he replies. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

 _Right._ Because she’s his _patient._ Rey wants to smack herself for being so petty, but all she can do is just nod. “I’ll change.”

“Right,” he swallows. “I’ll wait here—” He blinks and immediately adds, “…at my desk.”

The scrubs are too big for her. The neckline falls so low on her chest that she has to pull it to the back and tie the hemline to secure it. She wonders if they’re his scrubs but she brushes off that thought. _It’s brand new, it’s not his—get your shit together, Greyson._

Doctor Solo raises his eyes from his computer when she walks out from behind the curtains.

“Oh,” he says. "They gave you my size.”

“That's fine,” she shrugs. "At least they’re not _really_ yours. I don’t want to wear your...”

She doesn't know where _that_ came from. Was it her frustration? The awkward tension that’s been engulfing the room? It was a nasty thing to say. _Dammit._ And her doctor looks surprised and… kinda hurt?

Fuck. She didn't mean to.

“No, I mean—”

“Of course,” he replies. His voice sounds cold as he looks at the monitor again, his hand clicking the mouse. “I hope you're comfortable nonetheless, Miss Greyson.”

Rey wishes she could fling herself out of the window. She’d like to take back her words, but Doctor Solo cuts off her wandering mind by getting to his feet and continuing his examination. They don't say much of anything, other than Doctor Solo’s comment on how happy she must be that she's going to be free of her cast so very soon.

In her mind, it almost sounds like he’s talking about how she's going to be free of _him._

And if that’s the case then no, she's not happy. But she bites back her words, just riding out the uncomfortable waves of emotion circling the room. She really wishes he could scent her, so then he'd know how sorry she is for hurting him—and how unhappy she'll be once they turn into strangers again.

 _But it’s just a crush,_ Rey tells herself. And most crushes just die and turn into dust.

And sure it looks like it does when finally, a couple of weeks later, Doctor Solo takes off her cast.

It’s a chilly Tuesday afternoon, and Rey doesn't feel an ounce of satisfaction or relief when her hand is finally free again.

Neither of them say anything more than short questions and answers about her hand—and maybe there are a few glances that linger a bit longer than necessary behind the nurse’s back (but Rey knows better than to meet her doctor’s eyes a little too long). If anything, their last meeting feels more formal than the first time they talked to each other.

Things could’ve been so much easier, Rey thinks, if his scent doesn’t assault her that much. It’s frustrating—and exciting, but she doesn’t know what to do. She isn’t one to have the best self-control ever, but for some reason, this whole thing with Doctor Solo has been paralyzing her more than she’s expected. She wonders if he can sense her troubles, because sometimes it feels like he does. But he stays silent, his shoulders stiff every time she moves a little closer to him, as though he is _repulsed_ by her.

Soon after everything is done, Rey thanks him and the nurse, and politely excuses herself.

She doesn’t notice Doctor Solo’s eyes are fixated on her as she walks out the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering: yes, the Alphas she beat up are in that Jeep ~~(because they're salty bitches)~~.


	8. Part Seven, The Emergency

As a celebration for losing her cast, Rey and Rose—along with Rose’s ‘totally not exclusive’ boyfriend, Finn, go out for drinks at Eisley’s. It’s been a couple of days since Rey last saw Doctor Solo, but she still finds herself thinking of him. One time, she even thinks she hears his voice at her workplace. Even worse, she’s been imagining his familiar features when she looks at her boss, Han, too.

“That’s it,” Rey takes a swig of her beer as Finn lifts his arm from Rose’s shoulders. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna get laid tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m... gonna get us more drinks,” he says as he stands up and goes to the bar.

“‘Atta girl,” Rose taps Rey’s shoulder. “But, what about Doctor Sexy?”

Rey flinches. “Who?” she knocks back another swig.

“Well,” her friend leans on the back of the seat. “I thought you guys were going to... you know. I mean, you and him were making googly eyes at each—”

“What googly eyes?” Rey frowns. “There were no googly eyes. None—never— _nada._  Why’s Finn not back yet? Let’s go find him.” Rose opens her mouth to reply but decides to keep it to herself, and follows Rey as she beelines to the bar where Finn is waiting to order.

“What’s up?” he raises his eyebrow at Rose.

“Rey’s antsy,” she replies.

“No, I’m not!” Rey stands on her tiptoes, looking around for a possible target. It doesn’t have to be an Alpha, she decides. It could be a Beta or an Omega like her—who cares.

She’s been uneasy since her last appointment at the hospital. Her blocker has already run out, and she can’t ask for more. Two weeks’ treatment using blocker should be enough.

“Yes, it should. But it’ll be an entirely different story if you’re in close proximity to your trigger,” Doctor Kalonia, her OBGYN, had told her. “Or if you’re separated from your mate. But I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

 _Because I’m not mated._  How ridiculous it is when biology rules over one’s life this much? She never asked to be born an Omega, and she never asked to have her power taken away from her just because of heat. _This is why I’m such a shit Omega._  Rey Greyson doesn’t like it when she’s not in control. Just because she’s an Omega, it doesn’t mean she’s inferior to Alphas.

The last Alpha she was with didn’t appreciate her attitude. No Alphas like being told what to do, he said. _Well_ , Rey thinks, _some Omegas don’t either._  That’s why it’s easier with Betas. She doesn’t have to deal with the hyper-masculinity that straight Alpha males tend to exude.

Rey is reluctantly fishing her phone from her clutch (she remembers she’s installed Tinder on it—much to her chagrin), when Rose gasps and enthusiastically paws her upper arm. “What?” Rey asks. She looks to her friend and her boyfriend. But both of them are looking past Rey’s shoulder.

Before she turns around to see what they’re looking at, a familiar scent hits her right in the chest. She straightens her back like a cat in danger as she meets Doctor Solo’s gaze, his liquid brown eyes boring into her.

He’s not wearing his work clothes, she notices. He’s wearing a white Henley (she was right about his body temperature) with dark blue jeans that hug his thighs perfectly and a pair of Nike’s. He’s dressed like every other guy with plenty of money who tries to dress down and look casual—the kind of effortlessness that actually takes effort. But Rey’s got a feeling that he doesn’t even put in that much effort. He just happens to look good in anything. _Or nothing—stop it, Greyson!_

And this effortlessly attractive man is staring at her with widened eyes and parted lips, as though the fact that they’re meeting again is as much a surprise to him as it is to her.

But then, he advances. In an instant, she feels like everything around her slows down like in a movie. The noises mute, and there’s only her own heartbeat. And _him._

_Fuck._

And the closer he gets, the more unignorable his scent is. Rey is torn between wanting to run away and jump him at all once—her morality be damned. But before she can get out of the haze of indecision, Finn steps in between them.

“Doctor Dameron,” he says, and both Rey and Doctor Solo jump back to reality. She didn’t notice the other man standing right next to Doctor Solo. He’s shorter, with curly hair, tanned skin, and five o’ clock shadow. “Doctor,” Finn nods to Doctor Solo. The taller man nods back before fixing his eyes back to Rey.

“Doctor Solo,” Rey crosses her arms, covering up the hammering of her heartbeat with bravado she conjures from thin air. _Fuck. He smells so good. Too good._ “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Miss Greyson,” he stares at her intently, his jaw clenched and his eyes… _fuck._ Maybe it’s because of bad lighting, but she’s sure that they look darker than usual—she’s not going to lie that it sends _delightful_ shiver right down her spine. _Oh fuck._

“Well,” Rose chimes in. “Nice to see you again Doctor Solo. And you are… Doctor Dameron?”

“Call me Poe,” Doctor Dameron runs a hand through his curly hair and flashes a charming grin at both Rose and Rey. He then extends his hand which Rose accepts enthusiastically. “I work with Finn and Ben here.”

Doctor Solo a.k.a Ben Here murmurs something to Poe. “Relax,” he replies audibly.

Rey keeps staring at Doctor Solo but she can see in her peripheral vision that Rose is violently nudging Finn’s back. Finn clears his throat.

“So, Doc,” Finn looks at Poe. “Remember the thing we talked about? The thing… with uh, the scheduling problem?”

Poe is silent for a while before nodding. “Yes, yes, that. Do you want to talk about it, Finn? Now?”

“Yes,” Finn replies. “My girlfriend is also here, so…”

“We can talk about it,” Rose continues, laughing nervously. “I mean, you and Finn, of course. And I’ll be there because…”

“It’s about the shift-change and our vacation, right, babe?” Finn smiles—although a bit forced. “Rey, is that okay if we leave for a moment? Rose and I are planning to go on vacation—you know, the one we told you—”

That doesn’t sounds familiar to Rey, but she nods anyway—confused.

“—yeah, so I’m gonna discuss my schedule with Poe here,” he circles an arm on Rose’s shoulders. “Let’s go, babe.” And then he nods at Doctor Solo.

Poe smiles at Rey before tapping Doctor Solo’s bicep and leaving with the couple. Rey squints suspiciously at the threesome as they get into a booth a safe distance away. Doctor Solo, though, appears to be growing roots from his feet to the floor as he just stands with his hands in his pockets, no longer able to meet her eye. She chews her cheek.

“What’s your poison?” she asks him. Doctor Solo raises his eyes.

“Right now?” he replies. “Anything, really.”

“Are you a beer guy or a wine guy?” she looks at the menu on the wall. “Or whiskey guy? Scotch?”

“Whiskey,” he sighs. “How about you?”

“Beer.” His lips tug into a smile. Rey’s knees go weak at the sight of it.

“I knew it,” he says and turns to the bartender to order. He pays for it before Rey has the chance to reach her purse. “My treat,” he tells her, and Rey nods shyly, still processing that he’s _here._

They can’t find any vacant tables, so they opt to stand near the cloakroom, leaning on the wall and nursing their drinks.

“Do you think we should join them?” Rey shouts over the bar’s noises while gesturing with her beer bottle to the table where Rose, Finn, and Poe are chatting.

“Do you want to?” Doctor Solo asks, leaning closer to her ear. She clears her throat, ignoring the tiny jump inside her chest.

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s not worth it.”

“Why?”

“I mean, I love Rose and Finn’s cool,” she huffs. “But these days they seem to be more and more attached at the hip. I'm happy for them, but you know.” She laughs, "Let’s see how long Doctor Poe can endure their—”

She pauses. Doctor Solo is staring intently at her again. It’s an innocent gesture one would do when listening carefully. But Rey can’t help but think about how much she’s dreamed about him since they met—the way he looks at her, the way his full lips purse when he does so, hanging on every word she says—and now he's right next to her, in touching distance. _Real._

And he still _doesn't_ want her. Who would, anyway? An Omega like _her._

She looks away from him, staring at the crowd to clear her mind.

“Are they compatible?” he asks.

Rey shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t believe in stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s as ridiculous as the idea of soulmates,” she sips her drink. “It’s made up. A product of fairy tales. I mean, there are six billion people in this world, confined in different countries and cultures... How would you know someone is your soulmate, your compatible—familiar, whatever, and not just out of sheer luck and coincidence?”

He chuckles. “Who hurt you, Greyson?”

Rey rolls her eyes, but can’t help smiling. “I don’t have to get hurt to arrive to that conclusion, Doctor Solo—”

“Ben,” he says, casually. “You can call me Ben.”

She bites her lower lip, trying to order herself not to fall for him again. He’s just too pretty, too charming. And he’s… Ben, now?

But then she just nods and holds a smile.  _Fuck it._

They’re silent for a moment, and then it’s Doctor Solo— _Ben_ who starts talking.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he says. “Was going to do it today, actually. But then Dameron dragged me here.”

“You were?” her breathing hitches. And then she exhales in resignation. “Oh, I see. Do you want an update?”

“An update?”

She shifts the beer bottle from her right to her left hand. “This one?” she spreads her free palm, and then balls it into a fist. “This one’s been doing great, I’m telling you.” She curtsies playfully, “Thank you for your service.”

He smiles again, his dimples showing— _oh god._ “You’re welcome,” he reaches for her wrist, tracing it with his fingers slowly, like he used to when observing it. “I hope you don’t overwork it. But in case you do...”

He continues to talk about home remedies in case her wrist feels weird again, and Rey has to force herself to not just fling herself at him. His touch is too familiar, too comforting, too… _dangerous._ And his scent is still so intoxicating, so powerful, and although she’s not at all drunk, she starts to feel like she is—and it’s _not_ because of the drinks. She knows she should withdraw her hand or maybe take few steps away from him, but she can’t do any of it. Instead, she spreads her palm again, and lets his thumb lightly presses the center.

She laughs—more to calm herself than anything else. He pauses his rambling about epsom salt and raises his eyebrows at her. “Something funny?”

She shakes her head, still not pulling her hand away. “Nothing,” she replies. “You like giving advice, don’t you?”

“Medical advice? Yes,” he smirks. “It’s kinda my job, Rey Greyson. Especially, since I’m your doctor.”

“Not anymore,” she blurts out.

His hand stiffens on hers. Rey feels her heart race when an unreadable spike of emotion floods out of him.

“You…” she swallows, her eyes following his movement. “You’re not my doctor anymore.”

He takes a glance at her and then he’s busy with her hand again. “No,” he mutters. “Not anymore.”

“You can’t tell me what to do anymore,” she forces herself to speak. “Because you’re not…”

“I’m not…”

He tilts his head at her, and their eyes lock.

“I can do whatever I want,” she says.

He nods. She sees his eyes turn darker—and no, she's not imagining this. His mouth parts open and his nostrils flare. Her fingers twitch under his touch.

“We’re just... “ her eyes are searching his. “...strangers who happen to be here.”

“Yes,” his Adam’s apple bobs as his hand absentmindedly caresses hers. “Strangers…”

Rey takes in his scent with all her might. His eyes are so much darker that they’re almost black now. _Can you feel it?_ She wants to ask him. _Can you feel this too? What if I’m just making this up in my head? What if you’re really… repulsed by me? I_ —

As if he can read her mind, he leans in to her.

“Don’t be afraid,” he puts his lips to the shell of her ear and she immediately shuts her eyes. “I feel it too.”

And then, she’s not sure who started it—it could be him, it could be her, but she finds her lips on his. Like an awkward attempt at dancing, he takes her beer bottle and places it with his almost empty glass to the side. He deepens the kiss, bruising and punishing—and oh, she wants _more._ She grabs his shirt to pull him closer, and his arm circles her waist while his other hand secures the back of her head. She sucks on his lower lip and he moans. She runs her hand through his hair as they withdraw for air.

“Let’s get out of here,” he pants.

She feels the strain from his jeans on her belly, and she rolls her neck. “No time,” she whispers as he buries his nose on the junction of her shoulder and neck. “Here. Now.”

He pulls back, pupils fully dilated and jaw slack. “Here?”

“Here,” she breathes. And then she takes his hand and looks around. Her eyes then dart at the cloakroom. She peeks inside it to make sure no one is there.

It’s completely empty. Not even the attendant is in there. If this was an ordinary situation, she’d be annoyed at the bar’s lack of attention to their patrons’ belongings. But this time, however...

She pushes the door open and drags Ben in with her, closing the door. When she turns around, he’s already lurching for her. In an instant, they’re on each other again. He nudges his knee between her thighs, as she hooks one leg to his hip while he lifts the other. She knows he looks strong, but it still delights her that he can lift her off the ground effortlessly.

He carries her to the back of the room, walking past racks and racks of coats, their lips still desperately locked. Her hand pulls at his luscious hair as her tongue works on his. He groans and his grip on her body is tightened. He pushes her back into the wall and grinds into her. The friction forces her head fall back in pleasure, exposing her scent gland to his eager mouth.

Rey feels as though her world is crashing down in the most beautiful way.

“Fuck,” she yelps. “Do that again.”

He obliges, sucking harder this time. Rey moans.

“Omega,” he whispers—his teeth playfully graze her exposed skin. She hums in response.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he mutters. “Since the moment I smelled you in that ER.”

Her heart shoots right out of her chest at the declaration. His hand snakes under her shirt, squeezing her breast through her bra.

“You have?” she asks, breathless. “That’s inappropriate, Doctor Solo—oh, fuck!”

He grunts and nibbles at her jaw, rolling his hips against her jeans-clad center so deliciously.

“You—” he inhales sharply. “—smell _so_ good.”

“You, too…” she sighs to his skin. But then her eyes shoot open.

Rey pauses, and stares at him in disbelief. He looks so debauched, hair messy and lips swollen. His eyes glazed with desire. He leans in for another kiss but she covers his lips, pushing him away. He groans in protest.

“Wait, you can _smell_ me?” she whispers, the meaning of his words finally hitting her. He slowly lets her feet touch the ground but she doesn’t move her hand from his lips. He muffles in distress.

“Oh, right,” Rey pulls her hand back.

His shoulders heave and his hungry eyes roam over her. “Yes. That’s why I needed the open windows and the fan and that fucking scented candle—”

“What the fuck?” her hand is on his chest, not quite pushing him away. “Then why didn’t you—why did—I thought you—fuck, Solo, I always suspected that you _might_ be able to smell me, but I also thought you—”

“I’m sorry, Rey. You were my patient and I couldn’t—”

“—were repulsed by my scent!” she yells.

“—take advantage… _what?”_ he blinks, his eyebrows furrowed in total confusion. “Did you… did you just say I was repulsed by _you?”_

Rey folds her arms. “Well?”

“What gave you that impression?” he balks. “If anything, I thought you were just messing with me because you knew that I—” He clears his throat and covers his mouth with his hand, his face crimson red.

She huffs, raking her gaze over his body, and stopping at the tent on his pants. She licks her lips.

“I would never mess with you,” she says as she raises her head. “Well, not _never._  I mean, sometimes you talk too much.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “I am a _medical professional,_  Miss Greyson. It’s my job to keep you s—”

“I can’t help it,” she shrugs and takes a step forward. “...Alpha.”

His shoulders tense.

“I’m still gonna get in trouble,” she leans into his ear. “What are you gonna do about it?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. His scent spikes again, assaulting her in the best way. She inhales deeply, filling her lungs. How could she think finding some random stranger would measure up to _this?_ She must’ve been out of her mind. This man right here. _This is everything._

“Omega,” his voice is so low, so dark that she thinks her knees turn weak in an instant. It’s his Alpha voice, Rey gulps. _Yes yes yes._ “Let me take you home.”

She smirks. “Yes, Alpha.”

His eyes widen with glee as he takes her hand.

But before they can leave the cloakroom, the door swings open. The attendant is back, and she’s not alone. Rey and Ben look at each other as the noise from the others becomes louder. The voices are getting closer.

“It’s alright,” Ben tells her, gently squeezing her hand to calm her—or maybe himself—down. “They won’t suspect a thing. Just act normal.”

Rey tilts her head at him. She’s got an idea.

“We didn’t do anything, though,” she says. “Not yet.”

He chuckles, but his eyes widen as Rey pushes her body against his. The muscle under his eye twitches. “Rey—what—what are you doing?”

She reaches his belt , and slowly caresses him. She can _feel_ his hardness on her hand— _fuck._

Ben glares at her but there’s no anger in his eyes—if anything, he looks intrigued—and panicked. “Rey!” he shout-whispers.

“Hmm?” she continues stroking him so agonizingly slowly. She then pouts and shakes her head, “Don’t want to leave Alpha like this.”

“That’s—” he swallows, his lips trembling. She can literally _taste_ the excitement and concern and everything else from his scent. “That’s why we should—fuck, Rey!”

She gets on her knees and unbuckles his belt. “Shh, Alpha,” she whispers. “Act _normal.”_

The voices are still chattering. They’re probably only few feet away from where Ben and Rey are. But instead of scaring her, all it does is excite her more. She’s too excited to notice that Ben, tall as he is, pokes out above the coat racks, which means—

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the attendant suddenly says. Rey slowly unzips his jeans so the sound is as quiet as possible. “Are you looking for something, sir? Do you need help?”

“No!” he exclaims, as Rey caresses his thigh and nuzzles his crotch. “I mean, yes. I’m—” He coughs, “I was looking for my coat, but—” She yanks his pants down, releasing his cock. Rey’s mouth falls open at the sight. He’s really…

“—I—uh—I’ve found it,” he glances at Rey, amusement and excitement all over her face. It brings a smirk to his lips for a brief moment, before he talks to the attendant again. “I don’t need help.”

“Oh, really?” Rey whispers as she squeezes his butt. Ben jumps and flashes a smile at the attendant while his hidden hand gently runs through Rey’s hair.

“I’m just texting my ride and then I’m gonna leave. Thank you for asking.”

The attendant is not leaving. Rey can hear her just a couple of racks over. Ben presses his hand to the base of Rey’s neck while the other hand grips the rack next to him. Seeing him desperate for purchase makes her giggle. He clears his throat in an attempt to cover it.

“Are you sure, sir?” the attendant asks, concerned.

Ben nods and moves his hand back to the top of Rey’s head, giving it a light pull. She replies with a grin, and without any warning, she licks a long stripe along his length before slowly circling its head with her tongue. Ben chokes.

“Sir?”

“I’m fine,” he croaks.

He glares down at Rey as she sucks on his head and strokes him. He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head down so the attendant can’t see him biting his lower lip so forcefully. Rey can’t really hear his interaction with the attendant, her attention fully focused on fitting his length deep to the back of her throat. Coated with her saliva, she takes him slowly, earning a muffled whimper. Her eyes start to water and the grip of Ben’s hand on her hair tightens.

But then she faintly hears the other two—or three?—people who came in with the attendant start talking. They’re asking about some mink fur coat or something. She releases Ben with a loud pop (he coughs to cover the noise). She peeks out from between the coats to check on the situation.

“Do you think they’re coming back here?” she whispers to Ben, who’s now breathing heavily—and still incredibly hard. “Oh, no, are they going to catch us like this?”

Her voice is tinged with mock concern. She’s not worried at all. If anything, Ben’s expression thrills her even more. He looks like a mess. A hungry mess.

Rey knows it’s petty of her to play him like this. But he’s got it _coming—_ well, not yet. He’s been scenting her this whole time, but he acted so distant during their last appointment. He’s been nothing but the source of her agony the past couple of months. She’s going to let him do whatever he wants later (and she can’t wait). For now, though, she’s going to torture him just a little bit longer.

Rey licks her lips before going back to experimenting with his length using her tongue and hands. If things go the way she wants, she’ll be positively sore tomorrow.

“Rey…” he whispers. His hands are balled into fists as he leans on the rack. She releases him and then kisses the head.

“Hmm? What do you want, Alpha?” she teases. “Do you want me to stop?” She strokes him while maintaining eye contact with him, “Or do you want me to keep going?”

He clenches his jaw but provides no response. So, just to thrill him, she continues her ministrations and takes him in her mouth again, bobbing her head eagerly. The illicit sound of his muffled grunts and the presence of other people in the room only turn her on even more. The chatter and footsteps are getting closer—he grunts—

So close—

—closer—

“Ah, there it is!” one of the patrons yelled at the aisle right _next_ to them.

Ben’s head is thrown back as he spills.

Rey hears the attendant and the others chattering among themselves. She pays attention to the noises as they stroll away and close the door. Then, there’s only the two of them. Ben and her. She flicks her eyes at him and finds he’s gazing down at her already.

He’s breathing heavily as she makes a show for him—releasing him, licking her lips, and _swallowing_ his spend. _Obscene,_ just like how she likes it.

“Omega…” he breathes out. His voice sends electricity right down her spine. She stills.

_Oh shit oh shit oh fuck._

She forces herself to move, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He touches her cheeks and tilts her face up to him. She feels her slick coating her panties—and probably seeping right through her jeans, but who cares. Her heartbeat is pounding inside her head. Rey releases her grip on his pants. He looks so _pissed._

He fixes his pants and zips up while she’s still on her knees. _Did I go too far?,_ she starts panicking. After all, they’re practically strangers—what if he doesn’t like fooling around in public?

He clicks his tongue and hunches down, his face merely inches from hers. He smiles as he whispers against her mouth, his eyes predatory.

“You’re gonna pay for this.”

And then he kisses her. Hard.

 _Yes,_ Rey thinks. _Fuck yes, Alpha._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Press f for the coat rack.
> 
> @ Dalzo:  
> It's not exactly a closet, but... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	9. Part Eight, The Rehabilitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clears throat*

The moment they arrive at his place, she’s immediately all over him.

There’s no preamble—he has planned to offer her a drink (like any gentleman would do… right? He hasn’t done this in a while), but this woman—this fiery,  _perfect_ woman—takes him by the collar, kisses him, and licks his gland.

Ben Solo, even with his occasional self-loathing and anxiety, is aware of his build and strength. But Rey Greyson is another matter altogether. It takes him a little bit more effort to hold her, to prevent her from tackling him down at his own doorstep.

He wouldn’t mind, honestly. But he'd like to taunt her a little bit more. She’s not a big fan of following orders—he knows; she used to be his _patient._ And it’s not like he wants her to submit (he even grimaces at the thought of it). He just wants a payback for the stunt she pulled in that cloakroom.

Ben’s always known Rey Greyson is not a usual Omega (although he believes that if he told her she’s ‘not like the other Omega girls’, she’d punch him in the face). Someone of her size is not supposed to be able to fight off an Alpha—let alone _two._  But now he knows what she’s capable of. She’s strong and powerful and beautiful and terrifying and _amazing._

“Patience,” he tells her, pining her wrists above her head with one hand against the door, his heartbeat hammering inside his head. They’re in his living room—he wonders if they’ll make it to his bed. His free hand reaches her jeans, caressing the dampness between her thighs _(holy fucking fuck!)_ until she squirms and shuts her eyes. “Is this what you want, Omega?” he whispers right to her earlobe. She nods frantically.

“Please…”

“Please what?” he releases her wrists and pulls her shirt over her head. And before she gets her hands on him again, he circles her waist and plants an open-mouthed kiss on her before carrying her to his bedroom. Her nails dig into his chest, desperately tugging the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to make him lose it, too. He chuckles, adrenaline rushing through his veins all the way to his dumb primal brain.

He throws her to the bed and she squeals in excitement.

He's caging her, trailing down kisses to her jaw, the glands on her neck, until his mouth tastes the saltiness of the skin of her chest. He flicks open her bra and she throws it to the floor. He then hunches down and sucks on her pert breast while his hand is kneading the other.

“Fuck!” she throws her head back. Her voice turns into a whimper.

Just to test her boundaries, he alternates using his Alpha and regular voice when telling her to open herself to him, to stay that way, _don’t move,_ and eating her out until she’s a mewling mess. He takes pleasure in how she grips his hair so painfully, guiding his mouth to her clit whenever she starts to get frustrated with his teasing. _Feisty, this one._

At some point when he uses his Alpha voice (probably one too many), she stares at him with unreadable expression. For a brief moment, his mind is clouded with worry. Did he use it too much already? _What if she hates it?_

But then, her eyes turn so dark his cock throbs.

“Say that again.”

Ben swallows and balls his hands into fists.

“Get on all fours,” he repeats, his voice thick, trying to emulate the cadence and authority he spoke with earlier.

In an instant, her eyes twinkle like Christmas has come early (he sure hopes he won’t) as she shuffles in his bed, naked and incredibly wet for him. She assumes her position, revealing the most beautiful view he’s ever seen.

“Do your worst,” she tells him as he pushes inside her.

He grunts, immersing himself in the feeling of her tight cunt engulfing his cock.He’s not big on dirty talk, and yet…

“Say my name,” he grabs a chunk of her feathery hair and sucks the gland on her neck—he’s _really_ doing this. “Tell me who’s filling your pretty pussy up, little one.”

“Doctor So— _ah,"_ she cries, her fingers scrambling on the sheet.

The sound she makes as he thrusts into her is a thing of beauty—and her scent, _oh god,_ her scent confines him until she’s all he can breathe. It’s almost like a religious experience; it transcends him into higher conscience.

“Yes…” she hisses in pleasure. “That’s it, Alpha. That’s it.”

Ben’s got a feeling that even though it looks like he is in charge, Rey is _still_ the one who steers the ship. He doesn’t mind. If anything, it just makes her even hotter.

Later, he loses count of how many times he takes her and—miraculously—it gets even better _every_ time.

He hasn’t knotted anyone in a long time—he isn’t really the knotting type and has barely got any action in god knows how long. His job isn’t exactly a walk in the park with plenty of time for a social life. At first, he was worried that he’d disappoint her. But she doesn’t care.

After their third—or fourth?—time, she’s straddling him, waiting for his knot to lessen inside her, his fingers gripping on the soft curve of her hips. He’s dazed—of course, he is.

She looks down at him, flushed cheeks and heaving shoulders. _Glowing._

He wonders why she would let him touch her this way, have him come and knot inside her—and how he let himself do that without hesitation as though self-control isn’t something he’s used to in most of the thirty-two years of his life.

Ben Solo can’t believe his own luck. He wonders if he deserves it at all.

But when she smiles at him, his heart melts.

He pulls her down, her face meets his as her breasts meet his chest. They stare at each other for a moment before locking their lips together. He caresses her hair and the length of her back, her face buried in the crook of his neck. They stay like that for a while, saying nothing and just immersing themselves in each other’s scent.

And the next morning, she’s in heat.

“It’s not impossible,” he says, his thumb circling her clit. She’s on her back, her legs hooked on his shoulders. He peppers light kisses on her inner thighs. “Heat-blockers aren’t one hundred percent foolproof. Given your medical history, the possibility is also high.” He then licks a long stripe along her slit and she moans. “Just give in to it.”

Ben Solo is familiar with the topic. It’s not just because he’s an ER doctor—so he’s expected to know about medical issues and their solutions. It’s also because his mother, an OBGYN doctor-turned-Senator, used to make him study female anatomy and reproductive system using actual medical textbooks when he’d _just_ presented. It was a horrible experience, but it did come in handy when he started having sex.

“I think it’s because of you.”

He pauses, the taste of her so sweet on his tongue and the scent of her arousal so heady and delicious. He raises his eyes at her. “Me?”

Rey shifts, leaning on her forearms so she can see him better. “You,” she repeats. “I think you’re my trigger.”

Yeah, there’s also _that_ explanation—he just didn’t want to come on too strong. ‘Rey, I’m your trigger because we’re biologically compatible,’ is not exactly a light anecdote. But it’s probably the truth as he feels his rut kick in. He never likes ruts. They make him feel powerless.

But strangely, he doesn’t feel powerless right now. Her body welcomes him in the best way possible, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He just doesn’t know how to tell her that without scaring her.

_Don’t you think we’re… compatible?_

It’s too soon, especially since she told him that she doesn’t believe in it. And he’s never felt this way before.

But he knows he’ll tell her someday. He just does.

Someday can’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter as much as you do lol. (I'll fix it maybe.)


	10. Epilogue, The Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff.

Rey is over the moon.

She’s spent the past few days holed up and getting fucked her brains out (and eating healthier, for some reason), in Ben Solo’s apartment. This is probably the best heat she’s ever had.

He doesn’t just smell great, he’s also a generous lover. A gentle soul. And Rey can’t get enough.

But before they know it, her heat is almost over. It happens gradually, like a gentle tide kissing the shoreline. All she can feel is calm—and if there’s anything bothering her, it’s that she has to go back to her apartment which she shares with—

“Rose!” she jumps from the couch where she’s been cuddling with Ben. He jolts at the sudden movement.

“Is there a problem?” he asks.

“I haven’t told her where I am,” she puts her hands on her cheeks. “What day is it today?”

“Eh, Thursday?”

“It’s been a week?” she gasps. “Oh my god, she’s probably called the cops already.”

She finds her phone on the kitchen island and then turns it on the first time in a week. She turned it off the first night she spent with Ben—the battery was critical anyway. Rey calls Rose immediately, plugging her phone into his charger.

To her surprise, Rose is nonchalant about her weeklong silence.

“I didn’t call the police. I know where you are and I know how to find you. Last week, Finn told me that Doctor Solo called in sick.” Rose pauses for a moment, and then, “He also said that Ben friggin’ Solo—his words, not mine—never gets sick and never would even if everyone in the world were infected by deadly virus. He’ll make the damn virus his bitch and probably use it to control the population—again, Finn’s words, not mine.”

Rey sighs in relief, but then immediately terminates the call when Rose starts to ask for details (“Come on, how big is he?” she snickers. “Tell me to stop when I get the right measure—”).

She turns around and sees her former doctor leaning on the dining table with his hands inside the pockets of his red sweatpants, staring at her.

“She’s just being…” she trails off, pulling the hem of her— _his_ —t-shirt down. “Rose.”

Ben looks at her fondly, and the scent that wafts out of him is so calming that when he opens his arms, Rey walks right to his embrace.

“We don’t need to worry, then,” he sighs into her hair. “The cops won’t be breaking down my front door anytime soon.” She giggles, and then he adds, “I can have you by myself a little bit longer and no one would bother us.”

She inhales deeply and nods. But suddenly, she remembers something.

“Oh, no.”

“Anything wrong?”

She looks up at him. “Han.”

“Han?” he furrows his eyebrows. “Why does he have—”

“My boss!” she blurts out. “I’ve been MIA from work for a week. Han is going to kill me.”

Ben looks at her funny, his lips curling into a smile. She doesn’t understand, _why would he think this is funny?_

“He won’t,” he says simply.

“Well, then he’s going to fire me,” she cries. But he calmly tugs a strand hair behind her ear instead.

“Do you want me to give him a call?” he asks softly.

“Why?” she folds her arms. “I’m an adult, Ben. If this is some Alpha bullsh—”

“I can tell him there was an emergency if you want,” he shrugs. Rey scrunches up her face, still confused. He then sighs. “Well,” he says. “I’m a doctor. I work in the ER. And, you know, this does count as an ‘emergency’.”

She bites her lower lip.“I—I’ll just call Han and explain it myself. But thank you for the offer,” she circles her index finger on his naked chest. “... _Doctor Solo.”_

Ben’s ears, poking out of his bedhead, go pink—it’s her favorite. It’s been clear for the past few days that he likes it when she calls him like that in bed. And she _loves_ his reaction.

Soon, Rey calls Han and explains _almost_ everything. She makes it as detached as she can, like it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t want to talk about her heat with her boss anyway—even though he’s just _Han._

“Are you okay, kid?” he asks frantically. “Do you have someone with you? Do you want me and Leia to check on you? Seriously, are you okay?”

Han is such a… _dad._

“I’m okay, Han,” she laughs. “You don’t need to worry.” She looks at Ben, “And I have someone with me. Someone... safe.”

Ben’s face lights up at her words. He walks towards her and circles his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head.

“Are you sure?” Han still sounds suspicious. “Do you have everything you need? How about your wrist? Leia said she can check—”

Rey gasps as Ben takes her phone from her hand. He mouths _Don’t worry_ at her.

“Rey’s fine,” he says. “She’s with me.”

She can faintly hear Han say, “Who’s this?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Seriously?”

Silence. Rey is waiting for Han’s response with bated breath. She has no idea what’s going on. Her eyes zero in on Ben, but his expression remains calm. And then, she hears Han again.

“Ben?”

Rey’s mouth falls open. Ben just winks at her. _What the—_

 _"Ben?”_ Han’s voice sounds higher. “Why the fuck are you with my mechanic?”

“Jesus, language, Dad,” he spits. “You don’t talk like that in front of mom, do you?”

_Dad?_

...as in _father?!_

Ben holds up a finger and walks to the other room. His voice trails off, “No, I’m not telling you what we’ve been doing. What is wrong with you? Can I talk to mom instead?”

Rey is still glued to the spot when he comes back minutes later. She folds her arms and purses her lips, foot tapping expectantly.

“Care to explain?”

He bites his inner cheek as he nods and smirk. _He does look like Han,_ she notices. She wasn’t crazy when she found their faces a bit similar. _He looks like his mother, too. Brown eyes, the warmest I've ever seen._

“So, all this time, you’ve known everything?” she narrows her eyes. “And you kept it away from me?” She sees him hold a smile. “Is this funny?”

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t know. Not until Uncle Chewie brought you to the ER.” He sighs, “I had asked him not to tell dad. And, I was going to tell you.”

“Were you?”

“Look,” he clears his throat. “Me and my parents… we don’t have the best relationship in the world. I’m sure Han mentioned that before?”

Rey watches him intently, waiting for him to continue.

“And I figured it was enough of an uphill battle given that you hate Alphas—”

“I don’t _hate_ hate Alphas.”

“— _dislike_ Alphas, I thought it was the end for me. So, I figured, after your treatment was over, I could finally… you know, get over you.”

She blinks. “But how would that work in the future exactly? I mean, I’m working for your father, you know that, right? I’ve met his wife, who is also your mother. Sooner or later, we’d see each other again.” She narrows her eyes, “Wait—were you going to avoid me forever?”

When he’s silent, Rey just stares at him with amusement. She can’t believe it that he would—

“I was going to avoid you forever, too, you know,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You were? Why? Did I make you uncomfortable during our appointments? Shit, sorry, Rey. I—”

“I thought you didn’t want me.” She can see his shoulders relax in an instant although he still looks confused. And she then adds, “And now I realize that we were just a couple of idiots running around in a circle.”

He bites his lower lip, looking bashful, before tilting her chin up and leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I could never not want you,” he mutters. “I just thought I shouldn’t push myself on you. No matter how hard it was—especially after that day with the scented candle." His voice drops an octave, "You drove me crazy, Rey Greyson.”

“I did?” Rey asks, her stomach fluttering _._

“Yeah,” he nods. “The bathtub thing… that was hot. I, uh, thought you were just messing with me. And then the next visit—”

“I dressed like a slob.”

“The prettiest slob,” he takes her hands again to kiss one wrist, and then the other. “And you smelled amazing. It was a difficult time for me.” He laughs, more at himself than anything else, “Because if I didn’t watch myself, I might have had my license revoked.”

“What would you have done?” She bats her eyelashes, “What would you have done if you didn’t watch yourself?”

He senses her teasing. “I’d have asked you for a coffee or something like that?” He shrugs, "Or given you more medical advice since you like that so much. Like, a real-life, extended version of WebMD, except that I am really qualified.”

Rey groans. “Oh, god. You’re such a nerd.”

He laughs.

“God, why didn’t I make that connection?” She giggles, “You’re Han and Leia’s nerdy son! I can totally see that now!”

“Ha-ha, okay, my dad needs to stop trash-talking me behind my back,” he says sarcastically. “But how can you not know that my dad and I are related? There aren’t many people with the last name Solo.”

Rey’s eyes widen. “Han’s name is Han _Solo?”_

“Yeah,” he snorts. “He’s your boss. Aren’t you supposed to know that?”

She shakes her head. “No,” she replies. “I mean, he just calls himself Han—or ‘Just Han’ when we first met. If anything, I thought his name was Han Organa, because you know, your mother is... Senator Leia Organa.”

Ben bursts out laughing so hard his shoulders quake. “I hope you’ll tell him that when you see him next. Luke and Uncle Chewie are going to have a field day.”

She doesn’t know who Luke is, but she just smiles at him. “Well, maybe you should tell him. In person.”

“Alright, I will.”

Rey blinks. “Wait,” she bites her lower lip in anticipation. She remembers Han told her about Ben not seeing him and Leia in a long time. “Are you…”

“I’ll see him and my dear mother,” he cringes and sighs. “He and my mother went as far as threatening to disown me if I didn’t clear up my schedule this time, as if what happens in the ER is in my control.” He chews his inner cheek nervously, “He also asked me to bring you along. I hope you don’t mind? It was his idea, I tried to tell him that—”

“I’ll go with you,” she says.

“You will?”

“Yes. _If_ you’ll tell me about your childhood.”

He laughs. “Very direct. I like that. I mean, I don’t hate my parents. But at the same time, I don’t want them supervising me like I’m still fifteen years old—" He shakes his head, "You know what, it’s complicated. I don’t know if I can explain...”

Rey gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, inhaling the scent that comforts her better than anything else in the world. When she pulls back, her boyfriend is staring at her as though she is the best thing that’s ever happened in his life.

She smiles.

“Try me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done. Oh god, it's done.
> 
> I've never written A/B/O before (I know it shows lol), and I don't know if I ever will again. It was such a fun and head-spinning experience for me. I spent a lot of time in December for this, and without the help of my beta, [howsolocanyougo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howsolocanyougo/pseuds/howsolocanyougo), this fic wouldn't have been readable. So, thank you thank you, Julia. For your time and your patience and your kindness.
> 
> Thank you, [Dalzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/pseuds/Dalzo), for the prompt (which really tempted me to make it A/B/O, because how could I possibly not?) and for not hating it (eh). This was planned as one-shot, but then it turned into 10k+ words before reaching 20k during the last beta session right after New Year (and somehow I still added more words after that?). Also, thank you for your contribution to the fandom. You're a cool bean.
> 
> Thank you, RFFA mods, for being available and accommodating. I couldn't ask for better mods. <3
> 
> And the last but not least, thank you to my readers.
> 
> I honestly still can't fathom why you're reading this, let alone coming back after the first two chapters. :')  
> So, thank you so much for taking a chance to read this excruciating slow burn A/B/O (which I know has frustrated some of you at some point).  
> (And sorry for the crack smut—ayy.)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://rakefiree.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/rakefired). If you want to come by or yell at me about this fic (or any reylo stuff in general), you are welcome to do so.
> 
> See you around! <3


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